


Birthdays

by SamanthaAuburn



Category: Good Game (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Be consistent people, Good Game, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, M/M, Ryland/Alex - Freeform, Switched AU, Tumblr Prompt, Why is it that IMDB says Ryland's last name is Smith and Jesse says it's Tate?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:20:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaAuburn/pseuds/SamanthaAuburn
Summary: Ryland comes home to a strong smell of alcohol. He needs to find Alex. Fast.





	Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

> The first of many Tumblr prompts going up to fill the Switched AU. Enjoy everyone!

Ryland knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the door of the house. 

Alcohol. Everything smelled of alcohol. 

There hadn’t been alcohol in this house since. . . well, never. Alex had sworn it off after his horrible withdrawals, and Ryland hadn’t touched it since.

Smelling it in the house sent chills up Ryland’s spine. What was Alex doing with alcohol? 

“Alex?” No answer. He checked the bedroom, Alex’s music room, the bathroom… no Alex. Panic set in now. “Alex! Alex, where are you?”

He finally entered the kitchen. 

Eleven empty Corona bottles lined the kitchen counter. _Eleven._ Ryland had only been gone a few hours. 

Where the fuck was Alex? 

Something glass crashed outside, causing Ryland to jump. He turned and noticed the back slider door was slightly ajar. Frowning, he dashed for the door and ran out into the backyard. 

A pillow covered wicker couch sat in the left corner of the patio. . . and Alex sat huddled in one corner of it, his head buried in his knees, his hair spilled over his face, shaking. A smashed beer bottle sat at his feet, and the pillows in front of him were covered in what looked like photographs. 

Despite his panic, Ryland froze in place seeing his husband like that. “Alex?” 

Alex lifted his head and stared at Ryland through waves of unkempt hair, his eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet with tears. His lip quivered and he turned away.

“. . .I fucked up, Ryland.” 

Ryland crossed the distance to his husband. He sounded only mildly drunk, but Alex had gotten pretty good at hiding how drunk he was. God, he hoped Alex hadn’t really drank all those beers. “Alex--”

Alex huddled closer in on himself, shying away from Ryland. “I _fucked up,_ Ry. I’m a horrible person.”

Ryland brushed away the broken shards of glass and kneeled in front of Alex. The shaking was far worse up close. He managed to pull Alex’s hands free and he held them tight in his own. “Did you really drink all those beers? Do I need to take you to the hospital. . .?” He was honestly terrified of the answer.

Alex shook his head. “N-no. . . I only had one beer.” He pressed his eyes tight. “Okay, maybe more like three. . . I bought the whole damn twelve pack, like a fucking moron. I. . . I don’t even know why. It didn’t even fucking taste good. . . But. . . but I opened the first one and just. . . knocked it back. . . and one thing led to another. . .” He shook his head. “I dumped the rest down the drain. Couldn’t even bring myself to toss the full bottles in the trash. Was worried the cravings would get so bad I’d just fish them out later.” 

Ryland heaved relief and pulled Alex close to him. “Everyone slips up sometimes. You’re not a fuck up.”

“But I _am,”_ Alex insisted. “I shouldn’t. . . I’m such an asshole. . . I’m mean. . . just. . .” He waved vaguely at the photos on the pillows next to him.

Ryland finally tore his eyes away from his husband and glanced over the photos. He recognized them now. . . all pictures from the little blue box that Alex’s mom had sent to him on their wedding day. Alex had all the pictures out that had both him and his mom in them laid out all over the place. The blue box sat on a small table near the couch. 

Alex stared at them a moment before turning away. “. . .Today’s my mom’s birthday.” 

Ryland frowned. “Oh, Alex. . .” 

“I should be calling her. . . I should be able to wish her a happy birthday. . . Maybe take her out to that little café in downtown LA that she loved so much. Talk to her about my band, about our teammates, about being married. . . I should be making her proud of me. . . Instead. . .” 

Ryland took a deep breath. He stood, gentle tugged on Alex’s hands, encouraging him to stand. Then he took Alex’s spot and pulled Alex into his lap, holding him tight. “Your mom left a note for you in that box of pictures. Remember? We read it together.” 

Alex leaned his head against Ryland’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. “I know.” 

“And what did she tell you?” 

Alex paused. “. . .That she was proud of me.” 

Ryland kissed Alex’s head. “She loves you, Alex. She’s proud of you.”

“But I chased her away when I chased my father away.” 

“You didn’t chase her away,” Ryland said. “Your father acted on her behalf and she’s stuck, like your grandma said.” 

Alex pulled himself closer to Ryland. “But if I had just done what my father wanted--”

“Alex. . .” Ryland stroked his hair. “He wanted you to shun everything that you are. He wanted you to drop the jobs you love so much.” He pressed his lips together. “He wanted me out of your life.” 

Alex shuddered.

“And we know that wouldn’t be good enough. He wouldn’t have changed.” He rubbed Alex’s back. “Nothing is good enough for him. You don’t need his toxicity.” 

Alex sighed and buried his face in Ryland’s neck. He was silent for several minutes. Ryland closed his eyes and pressed little kisses to his hair. 

“I just. . .” Alex’s veil at hiding how drunk he was was failing. His voice cracked. “I miss my mom. . .”

Ryland’s heart broke for him. “I know.” 

Alex curled in Ryland’s arms and sobbed. 

Ryland listened to Alex’s sobs for several moments, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, trying to speak comforting words to him. . . but nothing seemed to calm him. Ryland wasn’t surprised. 

But what could he do for him?

Finally, he tried one last thing. He sang. 

Several months before their wedding, Alex had been working on a song with TWRP in honor of Ryland. While it hadn’t been finished in time for the wedding, now it was finished, recorded, and published on TWRP’s latest album, with Alex singing of course. Ryland had listened to it to the point of memorization. The first four lines of the chorus had been engraved on the inside of his ring as well. 

So he sang it. 

Alex’s sobbing slowed as Ryland started up the first verse, singing low and soft, attempting to mimic Alex’s tones and harmonies. He knew he didn’t have nearly the talent that Alex had, but he hoped it would be enough. 

By the time he hit the first chorus, Alex had stopped sobbing completely. Ryland sang he chorus with special emphasis. Alex had written this song for Ryland, but everything in it worked both ways and Ryland wanted him to know that. 

_“My hero,_  
My rock,  
My strength,  
You are my shining light. . .” 

Alex tightened his grip around Ryland. He sang the next verse with him, harmonizing perfectly, until they finished the song. Ryland ended his singing with a kiss to Alex’s temple. 

Alex took a deep breath. “Thank you. . . I needed that.” 

“It’s what I’m here for,” Ryland said. 

Alex squeezed Ryland’s shoulder. “You’re a fantastic singer, you know that?” 

Ryland laughed. “Either that, or you’re drunk and have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Alex shrugged. “Maybe. Sorry about that.” 

“No harm done,” Ryland said. “But maybe come to me next time instead of going to the beer. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He paused. “Ry. . . do you think I’ll ever get to see my mom again?” 

Ryland thought a moment, then squeezed Alex. “I hope so, Lexi. I hope so.”


End file.
